


modern emelan

by mistrali



Category: Emelan - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27520855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistrali/pseuds/mistrali
Summary: Tiny modern AU ficlets. With thanks to the Tamora Pierce discord, because I pretty much stole our entire discussion and put it into fic form.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [the Circle, Updated](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1215295) by [FletcherHonorama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FletcherHonorama/pseuds/FletcherHonorama). 



The place was exactly where Gorse had described it, a dark-red, dimly lit, rickety place on stilts smack dab in the middle of Huangshan’s tourist district. It took about two seconds after the food arrived for Evvy to get her phone out and start taking photos.

“I didn’t bring you two here so you could eat and Instagram your way through China,” said Rosethorn sharply. Her large brown eyes were distinctly unamused. “It’s not a cordon bleu course. We’re here to do _research_.”

Evvy exchanged a covert grin with Briar.

“We are - we’re researching the local vego scene. It’s lunch time anyway, so who cares,” she mumbled, through a mouthful of food.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full. People’ll think I didn’t teach you manners,” Briar told her. Evvy made a face at him and shook her head. Then she dipped four more dumplings into the delicious sauce and popped them into her mouth. She knew Briar understood, really - he’d been a street kid, too.

“Evumeimei,” said Luvo, who was sitting on the stool next to hers. “Listen to your teacher.”

Were all mountain hearts so opinionated, or had she just managed to land one that talked like a tinybuddha article? “You don't get how good these are,” she retorted, after she’d finished her mouthful. “Anyway, I thought rocks were meant to be quiet.”

“So are stone mages,” said Luvo, amusement in his slow, deep voice. Evvy didn’t dignify that, or Briar’s snort, with a response. Talk wasn’t important, not when her tongue tingled with the briny taste of eggplant and miso, sweet carrots and the kick of finely chopped chilli and garlic. It mightn’t be authentic, but Evvy was willing to make an exception this time, because damn if it wasn’t mouth-watering.

Rosethorn reached for the teapot. Instantly Briar’s attention snapped to his teacher’s near-empty plate. “No way you’re gonna be full on that,” he said gruffly, grabbing it and piling it high with buns, egg noodles, stinky tofu and braised bamboo shoots. “You’re always the one telling sick people they need to ‘keep up their strength’.”

“Remind me how I managed to survive thirty years without you waiting on me hand and foot, boy.”

He gave her a scintillating grin. “By chucking anyone who annoyed you into the nearest compost heap.”

“Another word, and you’ll find yourself neck-deep in kitchen scraps,” muttered Rosethorn, but Evvy noticed she bit into a bun anyway. Evvy knew Briar worried that Rosethorn would have another stroke, even if he didn’t like to admit it, so she tried not to mind that their serving plates were half empty. She wasn’t on the streets anymore. _You’ve got money now,_ she reminded herself, _and a part-time job with Briar. And you have all those precious stones you collected on the way here._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for ableism: Jory is not exactly complimentary about Nia’s anxiety.
> 
> I also tried to show that Jory has ADHD-C or ADHD-PH through her racing thoughts, but I have no idea how well that came through.

"You know Pavel’s not going to magically talk to you if you keep insta-stalking him, right?”

But the guilty look on Nia’s face said it all.

“Just message him already. All you’ve gotta do is press send.” Jory almost added, “It’s not that hard,” but she was proud of herself for remembering to bite her tongue just in time. It _was_ hard for Nia, Dad said, because she had social anxiety.

Nia huffed anyway, like she knew what Jory had been going to say. "I - I can’t just _message_ him,” she squeaked, one hand now frozen over the mouse in a way Jory would’ve called funny if Nia hadn’t looked so terrified. “You should see his finishings, Jory. His pieces look like real furniture. And his whole family’s in naval carpentry, so he’s been around woodshops and blueprints since he was in primary school. He’ll think I’m an idiot.”

“Oh my god, you’re not _marrying_ him.”

“Fine, you do it then, if you’re so clever.” She marched over and held the laptop under Jory’s nose.

Jory sighed. She had no idea how Nia managed to palm everything off on her, just because she was the more outgoing one. She hadn’t minded it when they were kids, but now she was starting to get sick of it.

"Seriously, Nia, your profile pic is you standing next to a pile of beams.”

Nia’s slow, shy smile was beginning to make a reappearance. Jory’s irritation rose.

“I like beams. They’re useful. They hold the ceiling up.”

Jory perched on Nia’s desk. “So you can make stuff that holds up entire houses, you’re doing a TAFE apprenticeship in carpentry and you’re scared to message some super rich kid?”

Nia grimaced. “It’s not the same,” she said. Jory’s attention drifted briefly to all the pictures on Pavel’s Instagram. They were okay, but nothing special as far as she could see. There were some of him posing next to ships or in navy uniform next to his dad. Most of Instagram was just people showing off their overpriced plates of food at pretentious restaurants. Jory didn’t really care about all the big-name chefs — she followed grassroots chefs like Chef Iven Gorse at Gorse and Ginseng, who cooked affordable Chinese food for charities and homeless shelters. But wait, wait, she didn’t have time to be sitting here, she had maths homework to finish. And Olennika had asked her to try a new chicken soup recipe on the weekend, but she’d need to ask Mum to go to the butcher’s for kosher chicken… oh, and where on earth had she put her essay on Dowager Empress Cixi? She’d already got an extension on it, and _that_ was three days late…

“Jory!”

She snapped back to attention. “Huh? Oh. Right, Pavel. You type it out and I’ll dictate.”

She thrust the laptop back at her sister and matched Nia glare for glare. “What? Isn’t your counsellor meant to teach you social skills? Okay, start with, ‘Hey, Pavel. What’s up?’.”


End file.
